Break Me Down (12 page)

Her breath stalled. “You met me almost a year ago.”

“Yeah. Believe me, I know.”

She shifted in his arms, rolling over to face him, shock moving through her. “You’ve played with subs.”

He looked down at her, hair sticking up in odd directions, a chagrined look on his face. “I’ve trained people. No sex. Lots and lots of masturbation, though.
Lots.
”

She laughed, the sound bursting out of her and easing some of the tightness that had settled in her chest. “You’re more of a masochist than I thought.”

He winced at that.

She pressed her fingers to the lines that appeared in his forehead. “Why do you do that? Why do you get embarrassed over all this? Obviously, I find your masochism about the hottest thing ever. Second only to your submission.”

He let his head fall back to the pillow. “I’m sorry. The response is automatic. As much as I try to separate it, I can’t help but assume I’m like this because of my fucked-up childhood. I crave pain and humiliation. There’s only one person who did that to me in my life.”

She frowned.

“I don’t want my dad’s fingerprints on my life, Sam—especially my sex life. I feel . . . twisted inside. Two things that shouldn’t go together have gotten horribly intertwined.”

“Did you enjoy it when your father abused you? Get sexually excited?”

“What?” He gave her a what-the-fuck look. “Of course not.”

“Then how is that at all tied to your sex life?”

He groaned in frustration. “Because the only way I survived it was to make it a game. If I didn’t break, didn’t cry, didn’t fall apart, I won. I wouldn’t let him beat a reaction out of me.”

Sam’s heart splintered in her chest, imagining the terror Gibson must have endured, imagining the scared little boy he had to have been. How could anyone have looked at those big blue eyes and raised a hand to a child? “And that’s what you do in scenes?”

He rubbed a hand down his face. “Yeah. I need to endure. Like some extreme sport. But somewhere along the way, that pain morphed into something different. Something that makes me crave it. Turns me on. Until someone tries to get in my head, tries to make me surrender. Then I just feel panicky and sick to my stomach. I get the same feeling at the thought of other people knowing I’m this way. It’s like . . . I don’t know, a phobia or something. Like people who are afraid of spiders know the spider can’t do much harm to them but all their terror buttons are set off anyway. It’s not rational, but it’s all-consuming anyway.”

She reached out and squeezed his other hand. “Is that how you felt tonight with me?”

He flopped his head to the side like it was too heavy for him to lift and peered at her. “At first, yeah. But then . . . not.” He frowned. “Tonight was . . . like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. I know I went under. And I did panic. First, when you mentioned you were going to film it and then worse when I realized you were going to force an orgasm out of me. But I was so determined not to safe out that you snuck past some barrier and shoved me over the edge before I realized what was happening. Then I was too far gone. I was . . . all feeling and need. I can’t remember every detail. But when I woke up, a lot of it came rushing back.”

“It was a wonderful night, Gib.”

He sighed, the sound full of frustration. “I hear you say that. But lying here, thinking through the things I do remember . . . it’s stirring up that crap again. I don’t want to feel shame, Sam. Especially not with you. But I can’t lie and say that it’s not burning in my gut. I—” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I rutted like some animal, didn’t have any control over myself. Knowing you have video of it . . . I can’t even think about it.”

She frowned, hating that old demons were so determined to taint things for him. For them. She laced her hand with his. “And even if I thought it was the sexiest, most beautiful thing ever?”

A little smile flickered over his lips, but sadness lingered in his eyes. “I love that. I do. I just wish it were enough. Wish I could feel it for myself. Wish I could feel proud of that surrender instead of embarrassed by my lack of control. In my mind, I lost. You bested me. I’m the loser.”

“You’re never a loser, Gib. Those are your dad’s words talking. I’m
supposed
to best you in this situation. That’s the fun part. For both of us. You fight. I win. Then we both win. Did you not enjoy it while it was happening?”

“You know I did. I . . . I’ve never come like that in my life. And getting you off after, the way we did it, I . . . well, if I think about it too long, I’m going to get hard again.”

That gave her a dart of hope. “So why fight it so much? What if you were like this all along? What if you would’ve been this way even without your dad?”

“I’ll never know. There was no
before
. He was always there.”

She shifted on the bed, trying a different tactic. “Do you think I like control because I was assaulted?”

His brows quirked. “
Is
that why?”

She shrugged. “Maybe it played a part, maybe it didn’t. Like I said, I liked teasing boys from the start, liked that feminine power. But who knows? Doesn’t mean I’m going to deny who I am over it. Those girls win in that case. I know in my gut what turns me on. If it makes me happy, is consensual, and does it for whomever I’m with, then the origin doesn’t matter. No one gets to have that much say over my life.”

Gibson’s lips flattened into a hard line. “But you standing up and saying,
hey, I like to tie up guys and dominate them
is a sign of strength. Toughness. For me, I don’t know how to admit that I like the things I like without feeling like a failure as a man, like I’m confirming something others knew all along. That I’m soft or needy or whatever.”

She would’ve rolled her eyes over the macho issue if not for the pain in his voice. This was a real thing for Gibson. His dad had made him feel less than, damaged, and that had gotten burned onto his psyche.
Your mother would rather be dead than deal with all your neediness.
How could that not fuck a kid up? She straightened into a sitting position. “Look at me, Gib.”

He did, effortlessly submissive when his guard was down.

“You know who’s needy? Goddamned dominants. All that
do this for me and this and this. Please me. Serve me. My needs are number one. We must have all the control. We
need
it.
God, how does any submissive put up with us?”

His lips twitched.

“So let’s get that out of the way. And, second, you need to hear this. Since that day in the training room—when you completely misbehaved, by the way—I haven’t had another man touch me. There’s been lots of masturbation.
Lots.
”

Now it was his turn to show shock.

“And you know why I want you so much, why I couldn’t move on? Because you’re strong and sexy and smart. And cocky as shit. And you make me laugh.” She laid her hand on his chest. “And because there’s nothing that turns me on more than a guy who’s tough enough and confident enough to give up control to me. I am a dirty and twisted and filthy-minded mofo. I
want
to hurt you. I
want
to make you beg. I want to take over your body and make every part of it my own. To see you desperate and coming like you were tonight. Primal and messy and lost to it. I want to push your edges and explore my own. And I want you to be able to love it, too. During and
after
.”

His gaze slid away, and she reached out to grab his chin to force him to hold her eye contact.

“Tonight, how you were, was epically hot, Gibson. It was a fantasy in the flesh for me. You coming all over yourself and roaring like a beast? Hell yes. I will vote for that over and over again. I wish you could let yourself watch that video. If you doubt your strength, your power, just watch yourself, see how beautifully intense you are in submission. Seeing you like that makes me want to thank the universe that you exist, that there’s someone else who gets it. It makes me want to parade you around at the Ranch and show you off because of how fucking lucky I’d be to have a man like you.”

He closed his eyes.

She released his chin. “I know that part’s hard for you. It’s okay. That’s what having a relationship involves. I’m dominant, but that doesn’t mean we don’t negotiate and compromise. My penchant for exhibitionism isn’t a deal breaker, Gib. We can play in private. I can respect that it’s a hard limit for you.”

“That feels like failing you. I don’t want you to have to give up something you enjoy.” His eyes met hers, torment there.

“It’s okay. I’m telling you I’m willing to compromise there. But I have my own hard limits. And one is that I can’t be anyone’s secret. I lost my virginity to Jesse. While he was fucking me and teaching me the fine art of blow jobs at night, he was parading around his ‘real’ girlfriend at school like she was a princess. It made me feel like I was something to be embarrassed about. So I don’t do secrets anymore. And I won’t be yours. If we do this, people will know we’re together. And they know what I am, so they will make assumptions about you.”

Regret crossed his face. “I’m so sorry that I put you in that position. You should never have to be anyone’s secret.”

“No, I shouldn’t. I won’t be. But you have to tell me if you can handle that.”

A lost look filled his eyes. Like he was already saying good-bye. “I want to, Sam. I want to be able to give that to you. So much. I just . . . don’t know if I can. I . . . Being out in that way terrifies me. And I
hate
that. Hate that I can’t seem to beat it. I think about it and I want to run.”

The stark honesty in his voice was hard to argue with. And old instincts wanted to surface. In her life, if someone didn’t want to be with her, she wouldn’t push. You didn’t want to cling to parents who would never adopt you or try to force bonds with foster siblings who didn’t want you there. You didn’t want to set yourself up for that letdown.

But the yearning in Gibson’s voice was hard to miss. He wasn’t saying he didn’t want to be with her. He was saying he didn’t think he could fix the anxiety. It was the same way she hated how she’d frozen up when those guys had grabbed her. No matter how much she wanted to react a different way, her body had its own ideas. But that was an anomaly. Before she went through self-defense classes, she used to jump at every little thing, panic when anyone touched her too roughly or came up behind her.

She’d beaten that back by going to classes over and over, letting men and women bigger than her grab her and try to take her down. The more aggressive and violent those practice attacks got, the more her panic ebbed. Her therapist had told her to take things slowly, work up to it. Instead, she’d jumped in and charged through the blinding fear, taking it head-on, having the panic attacks in front of the class and then telling the instructor,
Come at me again
. Go big or go home.

It had sucked. It had worked.

So now as she stared down at Gibson, another idea came to her, one that was steeped in risk and edged in danger. One she was almost afraid to think.

What if . . .

Sam watched Gibson with careful eyes, wondering if he’d think she was crazy. She probably was. She licked her lips. “Do you really want to, Gib? If you could change things, your reactions, would you?”

His brow furrowed as he searched her eyes. “Of course I would, baby. If I could change it, I could have you. Be the kind of man you deserve.”

She reached over and brushed a curl away from his forehead. “You already are.”

“Sam . . .”

She leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “You said you panicked tonight. Tell me what made you able to keep going despite it.”

“I was determined not to safe out.”

“But you could’ve.”

His forehead wrinkled. “No. It wasn’t an option. I told myself it wasn’t an option.”

“So it was like you had no choice. Like you were truly my captive?”

She watched his expression change and shift as he worked through that. “Yeah. I guess so.”

“Force.” She traced a finger over the angle of his stubbled jaw, enjoying the chance to just touch him after keeping her distance for so long. “Does that usually play a role in your fantasies?”

His gaze flicked away briefly.

“Honesty, Gib.”

“Sam.”

“I know it’s hard. Believe me, it’s hard for me, too, especially considering what I’ve been through. But here’s my truth: I find force scenarios insanely hot.” The words fell out of her even though she’d never admitted that particular fantasy aloud before.

His attention immediately jumped back to her, surprise there.

She pressed on. “I felt that you were in that headspace tonight, and it was a huge turn-on. It’s why I did the video. I knew it was something you’d normally freak out over. When you didn’t safe out, I realized you were really all mine. I could do whatever the hell I wanted to you.”

Even in the dark, she could see his eyes dilate, his lips part. “I—”

“Does that turn you on? The thought of having no choice?”

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “You’re talking like rape fantasy stuff.”

“I am.” That was a little hard to admit aloud. The word
rape
had so many scary feelings attached to it. But the real act and the fantasy existed on different planets. And she wasn’t going to lie about the fantasy version having a whole hell of a
lot of appeal. “If you want this, I could force you. Take away your options.” Her hand slid down to his neck, his pulse beating hard there, matching her own pounding heart. “Take you down where others can see and force you out of the proverbial closet.”

Fear flashed over his face, but he covered the emotion quickly. “I’ve got at least fifty pounds on you, Sam. You can’t really force me to do anything.”

“Is that right?” She squeezed his neck with enough pressure to make him catch his breath. “Don’t underestimate me, Gib. That’s not a very smart thing to do.”

“I’m not,” he said, his voice a little choked from the pressure on his neck. “I’m just being realistic. If I freak out and fight, you’re not going to be able to subdue me.”

“Don’t be so sure.” She eased her grip on his neck and moved her mouth next to her ear. “Imagine being tied down good and tight, no escape, no word to save you. You’d be mine to play with, to hurt, to fuck.” She took a risk and went for the shame button that seemed to be a double-edged sword for him. “And other people would see. They’d see how helpless you were. How needy you’d be for my touch. How very at my mercy you’d be.”

He stiffened beneath her, a swift breath moving through him. “Fuck, Sam. I . . . that’s . . .”

She sat up and gave him a long look. When her gaze skated down his body, the sheets were prominently tented. He was terrified at the thought. And turned the hell on. That was all she needed to know. “I’m not asking you to make a decision right now. I’m just putting the idea out there, a possibility to consider. I could take away that anxiety for you in a brutal but effective way, Gib. Show you that you’re stronger than this fear. And once your secret’s out, it’s out.”

His eyes were wary, but she could tell what she’d said was knocking hard around his head. He cleared his throat. “I don’t know if I’m as strong as you think I am.”

“That’s the thing. I don’t
think
. I
know
you are. But I’m not the one who has to be convinced. I’m not the one who’d have to take that leap of faith and put that much trust in me.”

He let out a heavy sigh and ran a hand over his forehead, some of the heat that had flared between them going chilly. “I don’t know what to say, Sam. I just don’t think I can.”

A touch of sadness wrapped around her. She could hear the resignation in his voice. Even though the idea held some appeal for him, it had been too far out, too much. The demons were bigger. And somber reality settled in. It didn’t matter how they felt about each other. Some hurdles were too high. He couldn’t take that leap, and she couldn’t be a secret. Where could they go if those two things were immovable? Nowhere.

She needed to accept that. Had to. Otherwise they’d both be hurting each other even worse—over and over again. If they weren’t right for each other, they had to move on. Stop holding out, stop avoiding other relationships. She would make herself let go. She should be good at that by now. She’d done it enough times in her life.

She grabbed his hand and kissed his knuckles, letting the heartbreak move through her. “Hey, it’s okay. Some things just aren’t meant to be, right?”

He closed his eyes. Defeated.

“Let’s not think about any of it anymore, okay? Not right now.” She was grateful her voice sounded ten times stronger than she felt. “Remember what we said yesterday. Real life can’t touch us here. This is the magic house where that can’t interfere. So right now, this moment, is still ours.”

“Baby.” He said the word like it hurt, his eyes opening to meet hers.

Her throat burned.

No.
No, they wouldn’t do this. She didn’t want to cry. She didn’t want to say good-bye. She didn’t want to feel this way tonight. Later. She would deal with it later. Alone. Not now.

“Come on. No more heavy stuff.” She tugged his arm and rolled onto her back, forcing him with her. “Let’s not give away these last few hours before the sun comes up. Make love to me, Gib. Like you offered in the bar. No roles, just me and you. Cool sheets and hot skin.”

He braced himself on an elbow, looking down at her, lines deep around his mouth. That pirate smile replaced with the gut-wrenching look of longing and loss and inevitability.

“Let’s give ourselves this. One more great memory.” She swept her fingertips along his jaw. “But when I wake up again, I need you gone. I promise I’ll call a friend to come out here and stay with me. But I don’t want good-bye. I have my own hard limits.”

His expression twisted into anguish, but she didn’t want that, didn’t want this to be a sad moment. She’d learned in life that sometimes things just weren’t meant to be. She’d accepted that long ago when she’d lost her mom and then her grandmother, when she’d seen those around her get adopted, when she’d seen kids with their happy families. Just because you wanted something, didn’t mean you got to have it. The universe was random and often cruel. So she’d learned to enjoy the fleeting moments of joy, those days, hours, minutes when things were wonderful. She wanted a few more minutes of wonderful with Gibson. She’d hold on to that. That would have to be enough.

So she lifted her head and kissed those lines of pain off his face and then found his lips. Once her mouth was on his, he relented. Maybe they weren’t meant to be, but their connection was electric. Anytime they touched, everything else seemed to fall away.

So though she rarely had vanilla sex anymore, she didn’t try to make this more complicated. Right now all she needed was him inside her, joining with her, giving her a piece of himself. Being there in the moment and knowing that on some level, they would always be connected in this way.

Gibson kissed her and braced his body over her, pressing his hot skin to hers. Hard against soft, rough against smooth. His hands roamed her body, her hair, her face, this undercurrent of desperation to every touch, like he was trying to memorize every part of her for safekeeping. She let herself get swept away in it.

“Sam, Sam, Sam.” The murmuring of her name was a steady plea on his lips, a prayer of reverence. And as he kissed along her throat, his cock grew hard and thick against her thigh.

She let her hands move along his back, through his hair, over his ass. Then finally, when she couldn’t wait any longer, she reached between them, taking the smooth length of him in her palm and stroking, rubbing her thumb over his slit and spreading the fluid there.

He groaned into her touch. “Need you.”

She shifted beneath him restlessly and positioned him against her, trying to convey the same words with her body.
Need you. Need you. Need you.

He rocked his hips, dragging his length against her, driving pleasure up her spine with long, purposeful strokes, his body huge and hungry above her. Back and forth, back and forth. The heat of him grazing her clit with every thrust.

She writhed beneath him and finally pounded his hip with her fist. “Please, Gib.”

He nuzzled the spot behind her ear and nipped at her neck, the crescendo of his thrusts building. He shifted his weight and she thought he would enter her, but then he stilled. Tension rippled through his muscles.

“What’s wrong?”

“Condom.”

Fuck.
They were in her bag on the other side of the room. She didn’t want to break the moment, didn’t want reality to encroach. Everything felt so fragile, the moment built on brittle, thin ice. She didn’t want to plunge into the cold waters beneath. Not yet. “I’m on the pill and just got tested last month.”

His breath puffed against her throat. “You know how long it’s been for me. I’m clean.”

Relief moved through her. Not until that moment did she realize how much she craved him bare, skin to skin, his release pulsing inside her. Even though this would be their one and only time, she could mark him and he could do the same to her. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Please, Gib. Fuck me before I flip you over and take it from you.”

“Well, don’t be tempting me like that.”

She smacked his ass in frustration.

He didn’t hesitate after that. He pushed her thighs wider and slid into her, his cock a sweet stretch of blooming heat inside her. His forehead pressed into hers. “Oh, fuck.”

Yes. Exactly. She groaned along with him and canted her hips. Not willing to beg but absolutely down with showing him exactly how much she wanted it. She dug her nails into the flesh of his backside, knowing those cane marks probably still stung, and his thrusts got harder, his sounds dirtier.

Her sweet, beautiful masochist.

The bed squeaked beneath him, the sound of skin hitting skin filled her ears, and everything else faded to the background.

She let herself fall. Into the moment. Into the sensation. Into the intensity of it all.

He battered her with his body. She battered him back. Tussling and rolling and fucking with a level of abandon that would leave them both bruised and sore tomorrow. Her lamp got knocked to ground, sheets came unmoored, hair got pulled. Then they tumbled to the floor, his body breaking her fall. He slipped out of her in the process but quickly she settled on him again, riding him and crying out like she was the one getting beaten. They needed the violence, the anger at the situation braiding in with the desire, turning it into something other, something uniquely them.

And when she screamed out his name, her orgasm steamrolling her, she pressed his wrists down hard to the wood floors and fucked him like she’d die if she stopped. He came hard inside her, his release flooding her with warmth and his gritty, sexy sounds filling her head.

The moment was perfect.

And beautiful.

And all too fleeting.

Hello. Good-bye.

And as they settled next to each other in bed a while later, sleepy and sore and somber, she couldn’t say a thing. What was left to be said? Everything. Nothing.

She waited until he was asleep and then pressed her palm over his heart, letting it all come crashing down on her, letting herself feel it, letting it be real.

I love you, Gibson Andrews.

And now I have to let you go.

She rolled over, put her back to him, and after a long, tearful staring contest with the wall, finally fell asleep.

When she woke again, the bed was empty. He was gone.

A few hours after the sun came up, a crew of workman showed up at her door, all expenses paid, and took over her remodel.

Gibson could fix her grandmother’s house.

Just not what was broken between them.